


Acts of Daring

by kaeorin



Series: Stark Tower: Avengers Drabbles [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff and Crack, Post-Mission, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 16:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17328314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: Tony wants to play Truth or Dare, and Natasha knows too much about you.





	Acts of Daring

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, listen.
> 
> I just want to kiss Wanda Maximoff.
> 
> Please accept this crack. It's the last longish story that I wrote over winter break. I have to go back to work tomorrow and I'm kind of freaking out about that.

“You don’t think it’s even a little bit sad?” Tony’s eyes were just a little too wide, just a little too innocent, for him to __not_ ___be up to something. “It’s a _ _rite of passage_ ___and they were _ _deprived_ ___of it.” He was gesturing wildly with his glass, which might have been a problem, had he not long since drained it. He raised it to his lips one last time, but then blinked blearily at you through the bottom. You tried not to giggle at his face. Was he surprised that it was empty?

It had been a complicated mission, once which involved everybody on the team, and despite all the snags and hangups, you had all managed to limp away relatively unscathed. Most of the time, everyone would retreat to their own corners, would have decompressed however they normally chose to do so, but for some reason, you had all converged on the sitting room. Tony had broken out the liquor (including the remnants of a secret jug of Asgardian mead for the resident old-timers) and now everyone was...well, at least pleasantly buzzed.

He moved back to the bar, awfully spry for how many times he’d already refilled his glass, and you found yourself following him over. “It’s an adolescent party game, Tony, not some kind of sacred ritual.” He wanted to play Truth or Dare. You were in the room with Black Widow, Captain America, the Winter Soldier, Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch, and Falcon, and __Iron Man_ ___was trying to convince you all to play Truth or Dare. You took a seat at the bar and placed your glass in front of Tony for a refill.

He pulled the bottle away and held it high above his head, like he was afraid you were going to try to wrench it away from him. “You have __teammates_ ___who grew up without a _vital_ part of their childhood, and you’re just going to sit there and __drink__?” He, of course, took another sip from his glass.

He had a point, maybe. Wanda and Natasha had both grown up in Hydra facilities, and you had to imagine that their lives had not offered them many chances to chat and giggle with other people their age. You found it hard to believe, however, that neither of them had ever encountered Truth or Dare since breaking free. You looked back at the rest of the team: it seemed that they were all trying very hard to remain focused on their own drinks. Well, if none of them cared enough to speak up, what were you fighting for?

“Alright, Tony. Christ, we’ll play Truth or Dare. Just...give me a refill?”

Apparently satisfied, Tony finally relented and poured you another drink, but then took the bottle with him on his trip back to the group. You sank back into your seat next to Natasha and nursed your drink as he explained the rules. You had to hand it to him: he had a passion...for...teenage party games. It was catching. Clint was beaming. Nat didn’t quite look ready to kill anyone yet. Bucky didn’t look particularly interested, but he __did__ look about as relaxed as maybe you’d ever seen him. Even Steve looked open to the idea as he stared into the surface of his drink.

“Here, watch. It’s easy to catch on, once you see how it’s done.” He perched on the arm of a chair and gestured wildly towards Steve. “Steve. Steve. Stevestevesteve. Truth or dare?”

Steve looked around the room. It was clear that he wasn’t entirely comfortable going first, but wasn’t sure that he wanted to be the grumpy old man who flat-out refused to play. He met your eyes and you gave him what you hoped was an encouraging smile. 

“Do you guys know how to play?” It was your way of offering him a way out. “Did you play Truth or Dare when you were growing up?” Surely humans had always been humans, right? Based on the stories that Steve and Bucky had told, the 40’s were not as prim and dainty as your history classes had always suggested, but...who knew.

“I know how to play.” He ducked his head. “Truth.” 

Tony’s face fell. “Come on, that’s boring. Truth? You didn’t get invited to parties much when you were a kid, did you?” He was almost pouting. Some part of your brain told you that someone needed to cut him off, but mostly you just wanted to laugh at how ridiculous he looked. You covered your mouth with your hand, just in case.

“Is that the question?” Steve arched an eyebrow. Tony nearly leaped out of his seat.

“No! Don’t answer that. Your actual question is… What’s your body count, Cap?” 

The change in Steve was almost instant. Where before he was almost...soft: relaxed, open, and just slightly flushed with the booze of the gods, you could see him slam shut before your very eyes. His eyebrows furrowed as he leaned back against the couch. 

Bucky, on the other hand, sat forward, halfway to a crouch. “That’s not a question you ask a soldier, Stark,” he snarled. Tony’s eyes went wide with shock, and his mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Somewhere under your buzz, your brain finally kicked in. You held out a placating hand towards Bucky, hoping to somehow keep him in his seat while you explained.

“No! Guys, no. Steve, that’s not… Steve.” You paused, trying to figure out how to explain the term without blushing furiously. When he looked at you, his eyes were still guarded. “He’s asking how many people you’ve... _you know_. Um. Slept with. That’s what a body count is. How many people have you slept with?” You held his gaze, hoping that he could see the truth in your eyes, even though your cheeks were burning. Bucky cleared his throat, and you heard him shift backwards once again.

“That’s not much better,” he said, but his voice sounded like a truce.

“That’s Truth or Dare.” Clint stood up and moved behind the bar. He worked quickly, flipping and uncapping bottles as he crafted two more drinks. He handed one off to Wanda, who had followed him over, and grinned at her.

Steve laughed as well, though there wasn’t much mirth in it, and swirled the liquid that was still left in the bottom of his glass. “Alright. Six. And now it’s my turn, right?”

“Six! How many before the ice, and how many after?” 

“You only get one question,” Sam chided. “Let the man take his turn.”

To his credit, Tony did slump backwards again, though it was hard to miss his continued muttering. Six was an interesting number. You didn’t really spend a lot of time thinking about Steve like that, but he was an attractive man and he’d been around for a long time. How many people did he sleep with during the war? Did he bring people back to the tower? There were so many questions bouncing around your head that...really shouldn’t be bouncing around your head right now. 

Natasha leaned over to whisper in your ear. “You’re curious,” she accused in a singsong whisper. It was a damn good thing that she seemed to count you as a friend, because the woman was way too good at figuring out what was going on inside your head at any given moment. You didn’t bother to look over at her.

“No.” Maybe you could somehow convince yourself (and anyone else who said anything about it) that your cheeks were flushed because of the alcohol. “It’s, like...scientific curiosity.” And it was. You could easily see the appeal of someone like Steve Rogers, but when it came right down to it, you weren’t really...swayed by it. By the bar, Clint said something else, and Wanda’s laugh rang out. You tried not to look over, but your body betrayed you. He was still grinning, but she’d slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle her amusement. She met your eyes for a moment, but then quickly turned her head to say something privately to him.

“I could put in a good word for you.” But she was just teasing you; you knew that without looking at her. Still, you nudged her in the side with your elbow and shook your head. Steve was scanning the room now, looking for the next person to choose, and you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.

“Natasha. Truth or dare?” 

“I always pick dare.” She crossed her arms but otherwise remained motionless beside you. You smiled despite yourself. Of course she’d played Truth or Dare, regardless of how she’d grown up. You expected Tony to start spluttering with frustration or confusion or something, but he was still mostly silent. For once.

If Steve was surprised, he didn’t let on. “I dare you to...” His eyes flickered around the room, clearly casting about for some kind of worthy dare. You didn’t envy him. Maybe that was why truth or dare so inevitably took a sexual turn—all too often, humans were just obsessed with sex, especially when they were in the throes of adolescence. In the absence of any other satisfactory dares, of course someone would default to something sexual. His gaze drifted somewhere above everyone’s heads, and he nodded to himself. “Walk that guardrail up there like a balance beam. End-to-end, please.”

Everyone lifted their heads to see what he was talking about. The room that currently housed everyone had an open ceiling for several floors up, and the upper floors circled above with only low walls and handrails to keep accidents from happening. The height made you dizzy, but she pulled herself effortlessly to her feet.

“I thought you were gonna challenge me,” she taunted, and strode out of the room. 

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Wanda’s voice sounded unsure in the silence that had otherwise fallen around you. “We have all been drinking...” 

She raised a good point. You dragged your eyes away from the rail to look at her again. Her hair fell in soft waves around her face, which was tight with worry. When she caught you looking, she raised her eyebrows at you slightly, as if trying to urge you to do something. All you could really do was shrug. It was _Natasha_. 

“She never lets herself get _that_ drunk,” you said in a voice that, thankfully, sounded much more sure than you felt. “And she’s been doing stuff like that maybe even longer than she’s been walking. She’ll be fine. I think.” You tried not to let your voice trail upwards at the end, like a question, but Wanda didn’t look convinced. You weren’t all that convinced either.

“And if she’s not, babygirl, don’t worry. I’ll catch her.” Sam stood up with a beaming grin. It was a nice thought, but he looked just unsteady enough for the idea to be ridiculous. You tried not to laugh. Beneath Wanda’s concern, you could see a smile struggling to break through. _God, you’re pretty_ , you caught yourself thinking, and looked away before she could see the truth in your eyes.

“Okay!” Nat’s voice rang out from above, drawing everyone’s attention skyward once more. She was leaning precariously over the rail and waving down at all of you. “I hope you’re all watching, because I’m only going to do this once.” She pulled back and leaned down a little further, which was confusing, until she straightened again with a pair of shoes in her hand. “Hey, hold these for me!” She dropped them over the side, and arched their trajectory so perfectly that, if you hadn’t already been expecting it, they would have knocked you square on the top of the head. Thankfully, you’d already shot up to your feet—they landed harmlessly on your cushion. 

“Are you trying to kill me?” You shouted up to her. “Why wouldn’t you just have taken them off down here? Or left them up there?”

You didn’t quite catch her reply—maybe something about your hard head—as she pulled herself up onto the bar. She wobbled once (your heart stopped) but then caught herself and flung her arms out to the side like a tightrope walker. You didn’t want to watch this mess, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. So instead you pressed one hand to your forehead and watched her every movement, waiting for some tiny sign that things were about to go terribly wrong.

Someone slid their hand into yours, and you just about jumped out of your skin. When you looked over, Wanda offered a small, tight smile, and a rush of warmth flooded through your body. Her hand was soft. Briefly, you scolded yourself for getting distracted while Natasha was teetering on the precipice of death, but you also squeezed her hand a little tighter. 

A few feet before she reached the other end of the rail, she pulled her arms back in to her sides and leaned forward—into a goddamn handstand. You fought back a groan. On the one hand, it was always a delight to watch her—or anyone else on the team—show off what she could do. She was highly-trained and exceedingly talented, and, at least on some level, this was fun to watch. The problem was that you had also seen the shitty twists of fate that the world was so fond of handing out. Even something tiny, some imperceptible shift of the earth, could send her hurtling to her death. Talent wasn’t always enough. Wanda let out something that sounded very much like a squeak and turned to hide her face in your shoulder.

Your heart stopped again, but for entirely different reasons. You could smell her shampoo from here: something clean, something sweet. There was something beyond that, though, some delicate warmth or spice or...something. Rationally, you knew it was probably sweat—none of you had bothered to shower before collapsing together in the sitting room—but it was nice. You turned your head towards her slightly, whispering low reassurances into the top of her head even as you willed Natasha to just wrap this up already.

When she finally reached the other end of the rail, instead of doing the sensible thing and easing herself back down to safety, the goddamn lunatic swept into a flip and dropped a full story to the floor below. You squeezed Wanda’s hand so hard that it had to hurt, but she didn’t even flinch. Nat straightened and smoothed down her hair and had the nerve to bow at you before turning to retrieve her shoes. Sam was staring at her like he thought she was some kind of goddess sent straight from the heavens. You mostly just wanted to throttle her. She settled back into the couch and smiled.

“You guys alright?” 

Wanda lifted her head, hopefully to glare at Natasha, but didn’t let go of your hand. You were...distinctly aware of that. It was probably the only thing that actually kept you from making the mistake of snapping at Nat. Instead you rolled your eyes. “I fucking hate this game.”

“Come on, it’s my turn. Truth or dare?” 

She was asking you. 

There was no way you’d ever pick a Truth from her. She knew way too much about you. When you first joined the team, she’d helped you train, motivated you through every awful workout, guided you through some nightmare missions. And maybe you still just showed too many of your thoughts on your face, but she knew things without even asking. 

Not that she’d ever purposely humiliate you in front of anyone. Probably. It was just...there were things in your head that not everyone necessarily needed to know, and Nat knew too many of those for you to ever feel safe picking Truth. But, as she’d so plainly demonstrated just now, the kind of Dare that would terrify you was her idea of a good time.

But, really, what choice did you have? 

One deep, steadying breath, and you faced down your fate. “Dare.”

Her smile widened a bit, but otherwise she gave no signs that she was surprised by your choice. “I dare you to...” Just then, an expression flitted across her face—something meaningful, but still confusing. She was trying to tell you something, you supposed, but either she was too drunk or _you_ were too drunk, and it didn’t make any sense. “Kiss Maximoff.”

She might as well have dumped a bucket of ice on your head. You felt your spine stiffen, your shoulders snap backwards. She’d known for _ages_ about this stupid little crush that you had, but the one and only time she’d mentioned it, you’d stalked out of the room and found ways to avoid her for the next three days. It wasn’t a joke. It was stupid. You didn’t develop crushes on your teammates, because that’s how people ended up dead. You’d thought that your reaction had been enough to make those boundaries clear to her, but maybe it wasn’t.

“No.”

“You can’t say no to a Dare, kid, you know the rules.” Tony piped up, gesturing at nothing. “You chose the Dare, and now...now you must complete the Dare. You don’t want to hurt her feelings, do you?”

“N—” Fuck. You turned to Wanda, who, thankfully, had not yet recoiled away from you. “It’s not— You’re… I—” You let go of her hand so you could smooth down your own hair, a futile attempt at self-soothing. “Nat, she’s drunk. She can’t consent to that. I can’t—” Nobody was coming to your aid. _Fine_ , you thought dizzily to yourself. _See if I help any of_ you guys _out the next time you need_ me _._

“I think you’re pretty drunk yourself,” Clint said with a grin that just made you want to punch him. “What do you think, Wanda?”

For god’s sake… You covered your face with your hands, not really wanting to have to watch the poor woman try to struggle with this situation. Suddenly walking the handrail like a balance beam seemed like the easiest thing in the world. Or revealing your sexual history. You were willing to go into deep detail about each and every sexual partner you’d had in your life, if it meant you didn’t have to deal with this anymore.

“I think...” Wanda spoke slowly, though, to her credit, she at least didn’t sound terribly uncomfortable. “That if this is how the game is played…” You felt her slide her fingers around your wrists, and then she gently tugged your hands down between you. She smiled, and it was the smile that made you useless—the slow-but-dazzling one that never failed to make you freeze, to make your mind go absolutely silent. “...Then you should kiss me.”

Someone much smoother than you might have taken this all in stride and said something really cool and charming before absolutely sweeping her off her feet with the best kiss you could possibly give her. You swallowed too hard and took one unsteady step closer to her. You pulled one of your hands away from her—but not too fiercely, only so you could raise it to touch her hair. There was really no need to brush it tenderly away from her face or anything like that, but...you just really wanted to touch it. 

“I...feel like I’ve suddenly forgotten how to kiss,” you whispered, hoping all the while that no one else would hear you. 

“That’s alright.” She pulled your free hand around her waist and stepped a little closer, so her body pressed against yours. Surely she could hear your heart? It was beating at a dizzying speed, slamming against your breastbone or your ribcage or your lungs or whatever else was inside you for it to slam into. You drew in a breath, let it out slowly. 

Her eyes were bright. You moved your hand from her hair to cup the side of her face and brushed your thumb against her cheekbone. She was flushed—from the alcohol? You gathered up every last shred of courage and finally caught her lips with yours. You felt her mouth curl into a smile, and forgot how to breathe, but somehow your body remembered what to do when you were kissing a pretty girl. You let your lips part. You traced her lower lip with your tongue, lightly, ready to pull away immediately if she gave gave any sign of hesitation. 

But she didn’t. 

She opened her mouth to you, met your tongue with hers. She was warm, and sweet, somehow with the distinct burn of whiskey. Your tongues twisted, sliding against each other, not fighting for dominance, but just...feeling each other. Unintentionally, you tightened your grip around her waist, and she tangled her fingers in your hair. Her breath came in soft little puffs against your face, quickly enough to assure you that her heart was probably beating as quickly as your own. When you started to pull away, she dragged her teeth along your lower lip and... _god_ , you could have whimpered if it hadn’t been for your audience.

Dimly, you could just make out the ruckus happening around you: mostly Sam hooting like an idiot and Tony thanking Natasha for something or other, but the only thing you could really focus on was the way that she felt against you. Were her eyes darker than normal? You knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that yours were, which was a little embarrassing, but there was something heated about the way she was looking at you. You attempted a smile and reluctantly took a step back. The distance allowed you a clearer head. 

“Are you okay?” You still kept your voice low. Sure, she’d let you kiss her as part of this stupid game, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she’d been okay with it. “Was that...okay?” Her smile widened as she nodded. Your damn heart skipped a beat. 

“Hey, pick up the pace over there. Some of us are hoping to get another turn so we can grill Cap about those six bodies.” That was Tony, and he snapped at you as though to hurry you along. 

Right. Because it was your turn. Because you’d completed the dare. You widened your eyes at Wanda, still trying to get your brain back in gear. “Wanda? Uh...Truth or dare?”

She met your eyes again. There. Her pupils were definitely wider. Not blown with desire or anything as extreme as that, but...wider. As you watched, she glanced down at your mouth. Her lips curled into a smirk as she raised her eyes back to yours. 

“Dare.”


End file.
